


Powers

by TheParadoxAt221B



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 15:07:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20819330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheParadoxAt221B/pseuds/TheParadoxAt221B
Summary: Powers a word that’s important to both of the Holmes’ brothers, but for different reasons. It’s Sherlocks first case and the only thing Mycroft will answer to.





	Powers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [22Bean22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/22Bean22/gifts).

———————— Carl Powers —————————

Mycroft was curled up on the sofa his nose had finally healed straight and his eye was normal again. He still hadn’t thrown out out the umbrella though, didn’t really know why he’d kept it.

Sentiment?

No. He didn’t have that.

It was... to keep his parents out of his business, and his brothers curiosity.

Sherlock bounded down the stairs and opened the front door. Mycroft cracked an eye open. He waited.

Sherlock threw the newspaper onto the table next to him. Mycroft lazily picked it up and began to read. He heard his mother berate Sherlock for drinking the milk straight from the bottle again. Mycroft read a few pages before he noticed that Sherlock was stood behind him reading over his shoulder. “What on earth do you want Sherlock?” He asked.

“Can I read the paper?” He asked. Mycroft sighed and handed his brother the newspaper. He’d done this the last couple of days. Sherlock took it and sat on Mycrofts legs. Mycroft hissed in pain and sharply took his legs out from underneath his brother. “God Sherlock!” He yelled. Sherlock looked at him in surprise. Mycroft never got angry no matter the pestering or bullying or stupidity he never got angry.

“Mycroft love, your father and I are going out!” Came Mrs Holmes’ voice from downstairs. “Uncle Rudi has said he’ll look after you and Sherlock for the day!”

“Why can’t I stay here and Sherlock go with you!” Mycroft shouted back. His mother popped her head around the door.

“I asked Sherlock about that but he said he wants to spend the day with you, and Uncle Rudi will be in his office all day... also we might stay the night ... so?”

“Fine.” Mycroft replied. His mother beamed and left the room. Mycroft groaned. His ankle hadn’t completely stopped hurting and now he would have to spend a day with Sherlock and his Uncle who was under the impression that Mycroft did not remember Eurus either.

It was so hard being the smartest person in the room.

Mycroft packed a bag of everything he would need, books, paper... umbrella. Mycroft smiled as he held his umbrella, it took the weight off of his foot and it made him look sophisticated. He picked up his bag and went back downstairs. Sherlock was sat on his rucksack watching Mycroft intently. “Now why brother mine would you want to spend the day at Uncle Rudi’s? With me of all people?” Mycroft asked with his head cocked on one side, leaning on his umbrella. Sherlock looked at first Mycrofts foot, then his nose and then his eye. He was eight now and still his curly hair was like a mop over his eyes. He wore Mycrofts old jacket and his wellington boots.

“I want to talk to you about something.” He replied.

“Why couldn’t it wait?” Asked Mycroft.

“It’s important!” He replied.

“What like the solar system?” Mycroft mocked. Sherlock glared at him. “Fine.” He said throwing his hands up in surrender. They sat on the stairs until they heard a car pull up outside. Mrs Holmes handed Sherlock a bag of sweets and ushered them out of the house.

Mycroft turned around to offer a complaint but found the door shut in his face. Sighing he turned to his little brother. “This thing you’re going to tell me had better be important.” He said and then picked up his bag and walked over to the black car that had pulled up in the drive. Sherlock followed slowly behind. The butler took their bags off of them and they got in.

“What did you want to tell me then?” Mycroft asked. Sherlock looked from his brother to the driver. Mycroft sighed and began to drum his fingers on his umbrella in annoyance. Sherlock began to eat the sweets which made it impossible to disappear into his mind palace.

They didn’t talk for the entire hour drive. When they finally arrived Mycroft found himself grinning, he found his Uncle Rudi hilarious. The man cross dressed in his spare time which had always been a joke between the two brothers. They’d sat outiside his room watching their Uncle try on dresses for around an hour while falling into silent fits of laughter.

They got out of the car and looked up at their Uncles house. Sherlock edged himself nearer to Mycroft as the doors opened. Mycroft himself found Uncle Rudi a bit overbearing but he tried not to show it for Sherlocks sake. The man that came out of the house seemed to walk as if no earthly force had any effect on his body. Sherlock again edged closer. “Michael and... Sheldon?” Asked Uncle Rudi.

“It’s Mycroft and Sherlock,” replied the 15 year old through gritted teeth.

“Ah yes of course...” the man trailed off at this point. The three of them stood on the path for sometime before Mycroft cleared his throat. The older man suddenly pulled himself out of his thoughts and invited the boys inside.

Inside, the great oak staircase was beautifully carved and lead up to the bedrooms and most likely his office. Uncle Rudi made his usual excuse and disappeared up the stairs. Mycroft hadn’t been in the house since he’d been Sherlocks age. Sherlock looked up at his big brother, but Mycroft just sighed and picked up their bags that the butler had left. Wow what had Sherlock put in his rucksack? Sighing and trying not to put weight on his ankle, Mycroft carried his bag, Sherlocks rucksack and his umbrella up the stairs and to the room they shared.

“So brother mine you got what you wanted, deserted house and utter confusion.” Said Mycroft. He collapsed on the bed, his ankle hurt worse than ever, and that was Sherlocks fault anyway. What had he put in that rucksack! Sherlock busied himself before pulling out the newspapers from the last couple of mornings.

Mycroft tilted his head in confusion. Sherlock jumped onto the bed next to him “Have you seen this?” He said excitedly.

“Almost certainly,” Mycroft replied. Sherlock huffed and pushed a peice of paper in front of Mycroft.

“Look Myc!” He said pointing.

“So a boy dies, in a pool, in London, what’s your point?” Mycroft asked.

“Can’t you see it though! The problem!” Sherlock almost squealed in delight. Mycroft sighed and took the paper off of his brother.

“Oh yes, and...?” He trailed off. He couldn’t see what his brother was getting at, the police made mistakes all the time. Just because they couldn’t see the obvious flaw in their theory didn’t make the case special.

“Well then we should call the police! Point out the mistake! His shoes are missing!” Exclaimed Sherlock.

“The fact is Sherlock that this... Carl... Powers is just another wrong case but in the grand scheme of things brother mine it means nothing.” Replied Mycroft.

“But if we told someone important then the police could catch the murderer!”

“And how do you know it’s murder Sherlock? You’re right it is but how do you know?” Mycroft asked smiling. Maybe Sherlock wasn’t as stupid as he looked. Right now though Mycroft was truly happy because Sherlock had taken an interest in something and his past and Eurus didn’t stop him doing his little deductions and Mycroft could finally talk to his brother without having to watch what he said.

“No one would just take his shoes. So they would have to do it deliberately. If it was by accident someone would’ve turned them in. So obviously the shoes contained something that would unravel the case, so Carl was murdered!” Gasped Sherlock. Mycroft smiled at his little brother. “So why can’t I tell the police or his mum and dad?” He asked. Mycroft looked at him.

“Because Sherlock the lie is preferable to the truth. That’s what’s clever about the case everyone would rather believe that the boy died naturally rather than there was some sort of nefarious motive. Everyone wants to believe it.” Said Mycroft.

“But why?”

“Because it is also a kindness to the family rather than putting them through the sadness of their sons murder.” Sherlock looked at him and nodded. “But, Sherlock I challenge you to come back to me at the end of the day and tell me more deductions about this case. You could be... a ... consulting detective.”

Sherlock had bounded off to the library with his newspaper clippings and magnifying glass which he had produced from his rucksack. Mycroft smiled. He waited five minutes before deciding to head to Uncle Rudi’s office. A year ago Rudi had told his parents that Eurus had died in another fire. His parents had believed it. Mycroft hadn’t. One, Uncle Rudi was the worst liar ever and two, Eurus didn’t have the concentration to stay dead. Mycroft crept along the corridor, past the library, past Uncle Rudi’s bedroom where the shrieks of feminine delight erupted. Mycroft crept to the other side of the house and went into the study. He sat in the chair and began to think. All the drawers were locked and the keys would be unlikely to be on his person due to the amount of times he changed his outfit. So the key was in this room. Mycroft leapt over to the book case. Dust. You could replace anything but not dust, dust was eloquent. Breaks in the dust line. Hmmm there was definitely more than one key hidden in the book case as one whole shelf was missing the heavy dust that had fallen on the others. It would come down to the spines, there were three that were the most damaged. One however was written by Uncle Rudi and the man was very vain so he probably read it to make himself feel better. Hmmm two left. One was his mother’s book on mechanics, that would be the most obvious choice if you didn’t know the Holmes family, and Uncle Rudi was a lot like Mycroft with sentiment and so it wouldn’t be his mothers book.

The last book was a book on psychology written in Greek. That fitted the deductions as Eurus’ name was greek and her issues were psychological. Mycroft smiled and pulled out the book. A key dropped out into his palm from the spine.

Now which drawer? Considering it was family the drawer would be near the top and the handle well worn. Mycroft pushed the key in the lock and it immediately opened. He pulled out the documents inside.

Sherrinford

What on earth was that? The folder was thick and part of the casing was quite damaged so, frequently opened. Mycroft flicked through it. He stopped at a map. It was some sort of island, more like a prison, the longer he looked at it. He snapped it shut and locked the drawer. He pocketed the key and went to his room, he got some paper and went into the dining room. It took him three hours to copy down all the documents.

He took it back to the office and as he was putting the key back he heard his Uncle walk down the corridor. Oh no! He hid behind the bookcase and placed a hand over his mouth to try and hide his breathing. His Uncle came into the room and took a seat at the desk. He picked up the phone. “Yes put me through to Sherrinford please, yes I’ll hold.” The room was silent for ten minutes before Uncle Rudi began speaking again. “I’ve warned you before about this! Reduce human contact, don’t allow any one to make a psychological assessment of her! This is of National security!” He paused as the person on the other end of the line began speaking. “No, I have her brothers at my house now. They are 15 and 8. No the younger one seems to have completely forgotten her and so is of no interest to you.” He waited again. “No it’s not like he ignores it he just doesn’t remember.” Another pause. “The older one seems to suspect something, he always has, when he was younger he could tell if people were lying immediately. I doubt he has lost the skill. But Mycroft is however, of intelligence that is even superior to mine.” Mycroft listened intently, who was on the other end of that phone? “I will keep an eye on it. Sherrinford is built to keep the world safe from what is inside. Eurus Holmes is your most important prisoner and if her brothers show any signs of her behaviour I will not hesitate...” Mycroft burst out from his hiding place. Uncle Rudi fell off his chair in surprise and Mycroft held his umbrella out in front of him. He picked up the phone his uncle had dropped and placed it against his ear.

“Who is this?” He asked.

“This is Sherrinford, sir.” The man replied.

“More specifically!” Mycroft hissed.

“MI6... sir.”

“What is my sisters current mental situation?” Mycroft asked.

“I don’t think I’m free to discuss this information.”

“Oh no you see I think you are, because if you don’t tell me I will expose Sherrinford and many other state secrets which I have taken over the years unless you tell me.” The conversation lasted about five minutes more until Mycroft placed the phone back on the receiver. He’d heard enough and was feeling slightly ill from what had changed about his sister in the last couple of years. “I think you need to tell me how you are involved in this.” He said to his Uncle. He withdrew the point of his umbrella and his Uncle stood up. Uncle Rudi explained the side of the story Mycroft didn’t have. Mycroft felt sick at what had happened to Eurus. He sagged against the book case and his umbrella fell from his grip.

His uncle made two short strides across the room and held Mycroft against the bookcase. “Now you listen here,” he whispered. Mycroft bit back a whimper. “Your sister is a security concern not a stray cat that you can feel sorry for. Now Sherlock remembers nothing but you, you do. Now that’s a problem for the British government as you are a liability for the most protected prisoner in the whole world. Which probably makes you the most important free person on the planet.” Mycroft gulped and closed his eyes. “So you’re going to keep your mouth shut and if you breathe a word about Sherrinford or Eurus to anyone you will never speak again. Understand?” Mycroft nodded slowly. He’d never been so scared in all his life. His uncle picked up Mycrofts umbrella and handed it to him. “Welcome to the British government, Mycroft Holmes.”

At dinner that night Mycroft didn’t eat a thing he just felt like he was going to throw up. His future was no doubt being planned now. Maximum security, no contact with the outside world. Much like his sister but for his parents and his brothers sake, his prison would be his chartered future as the British government. Sherlock seemed more distracted than ever just staring continuously at his big brother. Mycroft coughed. He couldn’t deal with everyone watching him. “So... Sherlock...” another cough. “What did you deduce about that Carl Powers case?” Sherlock smiled.

“So I read the paper from today and it said that everyone from Carl’s year had been at his funeral so the killer might be older that Carl as he’s unlikely to be younger as they wouldn’t have the knowledge to get away with it.” Sherlock explained beaming. “Also I want to be the thing you said. Consulting... Detective.”

“There’s no such thing.” Mycroft replied.

“Why can’t there be?” Said Sherlock pouting.

“You can do whatever like!” Said Uncle Rudi. The man speaking shut Mycroft up and Sherlocks fear of the man kept him quiet for the rest of the evening.

Later that night they were lying in bed when Sherlock said, “Thank you.”

“What for brother mine?” He asked.

“For letting the bullies bully you and not me, and for understanding my deductions on the case.”

“Oh so you did notice?” Mycroft remarked.

“Yes... your nose is still not straightened properly and your limp is distinctive when you don’t have the umbrella.”

“I underestimated you detective.” Mycroft chuckled.

“Consulting detective... Mycroft?”

“Yes?”

“What are you going to do when your older?”

“Didn’t you ask this before a couple of years ago?”

“Yes but today you were talking to Uncle Rudi and mum says he gets people jobs.” Mycroft paused and thought about the days events.

“I suppose a consulting politician.” Mycroft said trying to hide the sadness in his voice. In one day he’d felt like they’d both grown up around ten years more than they were. Mycrofts future was set and he would never be free again.


End file.
